


Midnight Musings

by Angstqueen



Category: Dead Zone
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce is having nightmares and Johnny helps soothe him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Musings

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in Physical Therapy #3 under the pen name Mystie. 
> 
> This is a post-episode tag for "Independence Day."

 

         I'm not sure what woke me up.  Checking the clock I saw that it was just past 2:30 a.m.  I wasn't in pain, I didn't need to relieve myself and it was quiet as a graveyard.  This is Maine, after all.

         A distressed moan from the other side of the bed cleared up my confusion.  _Bruce._   He's been dreaming a lot lately, though he won't tell me what they're about.  I can take a good guess.

         Rolling over, I wrap my arms around him, fighting back a groan at the skin to skin contact.  It feels so good and for a moment I close my eyes, savoring the sensation.  But this isn't about sex.  I just want him to know that I'm here, even if he's not awake.  Sometimes it's all that's needed to chase away the demons.

         I've had more than a few of the same type of dreams myself over the years.  Watching Bruce as he's beaten to death, or holding him as he bleeds out in my arms, and, more recently, watching the results of a truck slamming into his car.  Different methods, but all with the same outcome:  Bruce's death.

         Even though the night is hot, I shiver.  The thought of losing Bruce fills me with terror.  He's been my rock the past five years and I can't imagine a life that doesn't include him in it.  I've never had anyone who loved me like he does, other than Mom.  Unquestioning.  Steadfast.

         And he needs me too.  I'm not sure why.  A man like him could have anyone he wanted.  Yet it's me he chose, a battered, reluctant psychic.

         Neither one of us had ever put much stock in destiny until we met the other.  As the first few months of our friendship progressed we began to wonder if there really might be some grand master plan.

         A low cry and a terrified, "No!" startles me from my thoughts.  Damn these dreams.  They're relentless, robbing my love of much needed sleep, night after night.

         "It's okay, Bruce," I soothe, hugging him even closer.  I continue whispering, "It's a dream.  It didn't happen.  I'm here.  I'm right here.  Just a dream."

         It takes several minutes, but finally he stirs.  

         "John?"

         His voice sounds rusty but still it sends a jolt of lust straight to my groin.

         "Yeah, love, I'm right here," I assure him.

         He rolls over and wraps himself around me, squeezing tightly enough that it threatens my breathing.  I don't complain.  How can I when I've done the same thing?

         I entwine our legs and stroke his back and gradually he calms and his hold on me eases a bit.

         "I'm sorry," he whispers.

         "For what?"

         His answer isn't what I expected.

         "For trying to push you away; keeping you out of my head."

         "Hey, you're entitled to your privacy, man."  I had understood his request at the time, and the frustration behind it.

         As much as I lived in a fishbowl, so did Bruce.  He was the person closest to me in all ways.  Keeping secrets wasn't even the issue.  Everyone needs to keep some part of themselves private, even from their lover.

         He nodded and for several long moments we didn't say anything, instead enjoying just being together.

         "This dream is killing me, John," he finally murmured.

         I tightened my arms reflexively upon hearing the word "kill."  Not Bruce.  Not if I had any say in the matter.

         "Maybe you should talk it out."  I had suggested this before with no luck so I didn't expect this time to be any different.

         As usual, Bruce surprised me.

         "I keep seeing that damned car flipping over and over."  He shuddered.  "And when I get there, it's too late.  You're dead.  Sometimes I can change some of the events leading up to it, but the end result is always the same:  you dying."

         "I'm sorry, babe."  I kissed his forehead.  "I've had a few of them myself.  But it didn't happen.  No matter how many times you dream it, that wasn't reality.  I'm okay."

         "Yeah, but who's to say in the future—"

         "Shhh.  Let the future take care of itself," I suggested, claiming his lips with my own.

         He was reluctant at first, the horror of the dream still lingering.  But I persisted and soon he was responding with equal fervor.

         Our lovemaking was frantic and overwhelming, leaving us both trembling with exhaustion.  But in the aftermath Bruce slept soundly, the demons chased away – temporarily, at least.

         And the next time they roused him, I'd still be here to banish them again.

 

 

~ fin ~ 

 


End file.
